


Suicide Stunt

by TheClumsyHero



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27233095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClumsyHero/pseuds/TheClumsyHero
Summary: A scenario where Chris sees right through Piers's suicide stunt.An altered timeline of the end of Chris and Piers's campaign in which Chris refuses to lose his beloved lieutenant. Mainly rated for strong language.
Kudos: 10





	Suicide Stunt

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! So, this is my first RE fic that I've decided to post. This is something I always wanted to see and so I decided to just write it up myself. It started up on a whim and then I decided to flesh it out. I hope you enjoy!

Footsteps hit hard against the metal walkway beneath them, but what had been most pressing was the fact he could hear the ones behind him faltering. Despite the fact they were currently trapped within a collapsing facility miles beneath the ocean, Chris found his mind had focused on one specific goal: get himself and Piers the hell out of here. Of course there were layers to this; this wasn't as simple as it seemed, and the Captain found that his focus also seemed to loom more towards the man behind him rather than strictly on escaping. 

God, Piers. He was still trying to wrap his mind around all that had happened in such a short period of time. Stupid, he originally had thought: how could he have been so stupid? But that wasn't something he was able to say aloud; Piers was suffering enough and Jesus Christ he had at least done something. He'd carried out the string of actions he saw fit. 

He did it to save his life. God help Chris if he couldn't do the same. 

The footsteps behind him suddenly ceased, and instead, were replaced by a loud thud. He turned quickly, found that his partner was no longer on his feet, but laying flat on the ground, struggling to pull himself back up. 

"PIERS!" 

Chris hadn't hesitated, he found himself quick to double back (it was a short distance but God everything felt monumental at this point) and he watched as Piers groaned, attempted to lift himself but ultimately fell flat. 

"Dammit." 

His mind was racing; he knew this wasn't good (Jesus, wasn't that the understatement of the year?) and the fact Piers had given up his attempts of getting back on his feet deeply unsettled him. 

"Just go!" Piers weakly gestured in front of him, and Chris swallowed hard. 

"No! You're gonna be ok." 

There was little hesitation on Chris's part; he quickly grabbed Piers, slung his remaining arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up by the waist with little resistance. Chris was a strong man--that, coupled with the fact Piers was on the slimmer end of the spectrum (seriously, how had Chris never noticed?) made it easy for him to carry onward. 

"We're almost there." 

He thought, anyway. The facility was massive but at least getting out of such an open area could prove to be beneficial. At the moment, he mostly cared about the lieutenant's well being, and this was enough to push him forward. 

Chris was relieved to find he'd been right; when they'd pushed through the door they were presented with multiple hatches running along the walls, all shut firmly. 

"The escape pods." There was so much relief, perhaps even hopefulness laced in Chris's tone as he all but carried Piers into the room.

He was delicate in his motions, carefully lowering the other down onto the ground so that he could at least get some rest while Chris bolted over to one of the pads. He was no hacker, no computer genius by any means but he was confident enough to know he could get this damn door open.

"Come on."

Perhaps calling it wishful thinking would have been more accurate. But Chris was stubborn. He was determined. There was more than just his life at stake here. 

"Got it!"

The hatch released an electronic whir before the doors began to part. Chris was once more at Piers's side, trying to mask the concern and fear that was flooding his system. At the very least, he was thankful it could be mostly drowned out by adrenaline at the moment. 

A hand was extended to Piers and Chris looked him directly in the eyes. 

"Here we go, Piers. We're getting out of here." 

There was a moment before Piers accepted his hand and he was pulled onto his feet. An arm was placed upon his back, guiding him towards the freshly opened escape pod. 

And then he pulled away. 

Chris's mind began churning, grinding away while his eyes peered down at the new weight in his hand. 

His blood suddenly ran cold. 

Before he could react there was a hand being shoved onto his chest (God damn, there weren't many who were so brazen). Back he tumbled into the escape pod, and another body came down in front of him. Piers was fast, but Chris had been faster. He'd latched onto his harm, pulled him back with the momentum he'd gained which resulted in him being propelled forward, landing flat on his stomach within the room. 

"Captain!" It was the most energy he'd found Piers muster since his--accident. 

Shock was evident in the curves of his face, the way his mouth hung slightly agape but Chris ignored him. 

"Stop--Captain!" It was less enthused but it still tore Chris apart all the same.  
  
He could hear his sad struggles to pull himself upright, vaguely knew what was occuring behind his turned back as he set the pod to launch and was even quicker to return. He didn't know how he managed it, didn't know how something for once went his way but the door shut behind him and the pod prepared to take off. 

"Chris, what the hell are you doing!?"

"No, what the HELL did you think YOU were doing, Piers!?" 

This had caused for silence to fall in the small pod. Piers had managed to prop himself upright, though it looked as if his legs could buckle were he not pressed against the padded back wall. 

"Did you think I would be okay with you pulling some dumbass suicide stunt? Jesus, Piers, you think I would've been able to live with leaving you behind!?" Chris swore he could see spots, and it was for that reason he finally chose to turn away, to press his fingers against the bridge of his nose to at least try and calm down. 

After all, it wasn't just anger. The slight tremble in his hand was certainly something else. 

"I did it--f-for you!" It seemed he struggled to force his words out, but he was persistent. He always had been particularly stubborn when it came to Chris's wellbeing. "For everyone that's going to be up on the surface. If I--" 

"You're not a monster, Piers! Jesus--look what you did, what you were about to do!" 

Once again silence fell, and Chris briefly turned to catch Piers's gaze. He couldn't deny this line of infection was clearly different; the very fact he remained coherent was a testament to that. 

He could see his lips part, as though he were attempting to form some type of rebuttal but it was replaced by a raspy cough. Chris couldn't help but find himself momentarily glued to the appendage now attached to his Lieutenant. It seemed to move of its own accord, and it was followed by a pained groan, one Piers had obviously tried to stifle in his attempt to respond. 

Once more his lips parted, and his fiery gaze rose but it had been quickly stifled when the pod violently jarred. 

Chris turned his attention back onto the open window which was now currently obstructed by HAOS who had latched itself onto their vessel. 

"God damnit, will this thing ever die!?" 

At this rate it was going to drag them back down to the exploding wreckage. Chris began a fruitless attempt at looking for something that could free them from it's grasp but, not surprisingly, came up empty. Why the hell would anyone stock an escape pod with any sort of outside weaponry? 

A hand pressed against his chest, and he was surprised to see Piers up and rather sturdy. 

"Stay..." he swallowed hard, and Chris could see he was struggling. "Stay on the padded floor. Don't touch the metal." 

For a moment he found himself lost with the request although he complied. Before he could raise his concerns, however, a fierce shock illuminated the vessel. The B.O.W. released an ear splitting shriek, and yet it persisted. Piers had drawn back, gasping for air but he did not relent. He instead pushed back once again, electricity surging through his mutated appendage, frying the damn monster so determined to end them. 

Finally, it released them, and Chris watched as it fell back down to the ruins from which it came. Though, that hadn't lasted long. 

Piers all but collapsed and Chris was quick to catch him in his arms and slowly lead him onto the ground. His head hit the wall and he wrenched his eyes shut, teeth barred as another barrage of pain swept over him. 

"Hey, easy." A firm hand found itself on his shoulder, gave a steadying squeeze which Piers visibly reacted to. 

His once barred teeth were hidden, and his nostrils flared as he attempted to suck in some grounding breaths. Seeing him like this--God, it made Chris want to die. 

"God I'm--I'm so fucking sorry, Piers."

This had roused him once more, his eyes focused on Chris who had sunk down beside him. 

"This is my fault." 

"Chris--"  
"No. No, it is. If I hadn't been such an asshole--fuck, we shouldn't even have been down here!" 

He was back on his feet as quickly as he was off of them, stalking the small area and allowing him to punch a fist into the wall. While it stung, and certainly was not the wisest decision, it had at least alleviated some of the boiling rage inside him. 

It near totally dissipated when a pained shout came from behind him. 

Chris felt completely and utterly helpless. He had to watch as Piers writhed, head tipping back and digging into the wall behind him; as his teeth grit and he couldn't stop the grunts and rasping groans from escaping him. He turned his gaze away, instead watched as they quickly came upon the surface.

They burst from the water, and Chris waisted little time throwing open the hatch. A pounding came from behind him, Piers's fist smashing against the floor. 

"God--h-hurts." 

But he couldn't even articulate what hurt. His arm? It wasn't his arm, not anymore. It was sick; a sign of infection. The entire right side of his torso felt as though it could burst into flames and even then he thought that would potentially be preferable to this. 

He jerked rather violently when he was suddenly being touched; readjusted. And yet when the shock had worn, he all but melted into Chris's grasp. He found his head suddenly propped up, laid against Chris's thighs and he had to admit, being flat on the ground was much better than the awkward angle he'd had against the wall. The new appendage was long, cumbersome. It was certainly preferable to have it splayed out on the floor beside him. Well, it would have been most preferable if it hadn't existed at all, but that was no longer an option.

"Just hang in there, Piers. They'll pull us out of here in no time." 

He didn't know how true those words were, but he figured it was one of the few things he could do to comfort him. Especially now that he was capable of getting a true look at the extent of the damage. 

Piers was--God, he was a mess. The limb that had taken the place of his severed arm was grotesque, pulsating, and it seemed with each thrum it caused for discomfort. It had pulled at the skin trailing down his abdomen, ripping through his uniform and exposing muscle and bone. Blood and other materials mixed and stained his right side, but Chris paid little mind to it.

All he cared about was the fact he was alive. He was still breathing, still in his grasp. And they were going to have a lengthy talk about his idiotic stunt he had tried to pull.   
There was some trepidation in touching him further, despite the fact it had seemed his grimacing and moaning had quieted. There was still tension in his face, in his shoulder and back, and Chris feared he could make it worse. It was awkward; he wouldn't lie he felt discomfort flare, but God damn, his partner had just risked life and limb for him and was suffering beyond Chris's comprehension. 

Gentle fingers worked through his hair which once more caused a startled flinch beneath his touch, though Piers did little to stop it. And so he continued, hoping it at least gave him some physical comfort. Something to ground him and to latch onto. 

"Captain." 

Chris was surprised by how clear Piers had been in his address; although it was obvious pain still tormented him, he assumed he'd managed to muster up enough strength to speak once more. He'd also never really known Piers to be the silent type.

"Yea?" He realized he'd stopped his gentle comforting, and it soon resumed after his momentary pause. 

"Thank you. For...for everything. It was an honor--" 

"No." Chris quickly cut that line of thinking off, he wouldn't indulge it. 

It caused for two fingers to press against the left side of his neck; he thought that would be the best spot rather than groping at his arm and forcing him to move. He was no doctor, but he felt something. Weak, too fast, but what he would consider stable. Nothing to cause concern--not yet, anyhow. 

"No, I don't think you're going anywhere yet, Lieutenant. If you die on me, I'll never forgive you. Try going on to the afterlife with that on your conscience."

It was light-hearted, and Chris almost heaved a sigh of relief when he saw a vague, albeit pained, smile briefly dance across Piers's lips. 

"Th-that's--not fair." A weak laugh escaped him. "All the--w-with all the--shit you--put me through." 

"What? I--alright, maybe I have to give you that one. But, if you will recall, you're in this mess because you decided to save my sorry ass. So, no, I think it is fair. Clearly I'm doing this out of obligation." 

Again he laughed, though this time it was followed by a grimace. His fist clenched and once more it occasionally pounded against the ground. 

"How can I ever repay you for what you did down there, Piers? You saved my life twice. If it weren't for you there wouldn't be anyone else to save." 

Piers went silent at the question, his eyes seemed somewhat hazy and distant; it unnerved Chris. His jaw was clenched, and for a moment he feared the worst when he suddenly froze. Just before Chris could reach to check a pulse again, Piers's lips parted.

"Maybe--ngh--a n-nice dinner." 

"You bastard. Don't scare me like that again. Whatever you want, it's yours." 

"Hey, if y-you--" his face twisted into a look of pure agony, and his body suddenly writhed in his grasp. 

"Hey, it's alright. It's going to be okay, Piers. I'm right here. We're getting you out of here."

The sound of a helicopter approaching had never sounded sweeter in his entire life. Chris knew he couldn't break a sigh of relief yet, but that chopper at least gave him the confirmation things were looking up. 

While he hadn't wanted to move; hadn't wanted to disturb Piers beneath his grasp Chris had to carefully maneuver around him, his heart clenching with the muted groans that escaped him. Once free, he moved towards the opened hatch, squinting in the glow of the sun and watched as the helicopter approached. The helicopter that certainly would have no intent on landing. 

Shit. Fuck! 

"God damnit!" It was a mere whisper under his breath before he turned on heel and was back at Piers's side, kneeling beside him. 

"It's not--ngh--landing, is it?" 

Chris swallowed hard, though his gaze remained firm, his expression serious. They had come too far to give up now. 

"No. No, it's not." 

Piers moved his eyes away from Chris, and instead took to staring at the ceiling, breathing ragged. Just thinking about the agony climbing a ladder was going to put him through caused for a grimace to cross his face. It was enough to even cause an internal debate. Was it even worth it?

"Just--go on--" 

"Piers, if you think I'm giving up on you now you're out of your fucking mind. Look," 

Once more Chris found his jaw clenching, found his heart rate accelerating because he knew how horrendous this was going to be. He knew how hard this would be on Piers, knew he was suffering enough but he couldn't lose him too. Not now. 

With a steadying breath he continued. 

"I know this is going to suck. Really bad. But we're going to get through it, alright?" 

Piers knew he didn't have much of a choice. He grunted, gave a weak nod of his head, and then waited for Chris to offer his hand once more.   
Piers had what was basically a death grip on the hand. Chris's other swung around onto his back to carefully sit him upright before he was pulling him into his feet. Although there was no physical protest, he did grunt and groan, and once upright, he released a few shaking breaths. 

"Ready?" Chris was gentle, surprisingly enough. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so careful. 

"F-fuck." Was the gritted response, but after swallowing hard, he gave a hesitant nod. 

"Alright." Up he went, though this time not without a pained shout. 

Piers stumbled forward, and he had to give Chris credit because he swore his grip was strong enough to shatter the bones in his hand. His gaze lifted, his breathing ragged. The swinging latter stared back at him and it caused for his stomach to churn. 

"You okay to stand on your own? I have to grab the latter." 

Could he? Probably. Did he want to? Regardless, he carefully gave a careful nod and the support was gone for a few fleeting moments. 

"You first. I'll hold it steady for now and be right up behind you." 

"Y-you should--"

"I'll be right behind you." 

He reinforced his point, and it was quite clear that would be the end of it. It was going to take Piers longer to reach the chopper, would most likely be excruciating. Remaining upright and walking was becoming exceedingly more difficult; traveling upward almost felt like an impossibility. But Chris knew it was safer to have Piers go first, knew he couldn't pull any bullshit if he had to reach the top first. He didn't care how long it took, so long as they both ended up on that helicopter.   
There was obvious hesitation, and Chris could see Piers's mind churning, calculating. His jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, hand clenching one of the rungs before his feet joined him. That was the easiest step. This climb under any other circumstances would have been effortless, but now he couldn't fathom how he'd do this single handedly, let alone with the hulking mass weighing him down and the added stress of exposed bone. 

But Chris was waiting. He wouldn't be any safer until Piers got his ass in gear and started climbing. And so he did. 

It was a slow process and an agonizing one. It was a balance of keeping himself steady on the shaking latter, working in tandem with his feet and single arm, and hoisting the god damn blight of an appendage up each rung of the latter. His throat felt raw from the screams, Chris occasionally checking on him which was unfortunately returned with strings of cursing but the captain was ever patient. 

When he reached the top Piers swore that was all he had left in him. Encouraging words fell on deaf ears as he found himself building the strength to throw his infected arm over the side and pull himself up and over. It was excruciating, and Piers had finally allowed himself to break, to cry out in pain and collapse onto the hard ground beneath him.   
Chris was a hurricane. 

The moment he stepped foot into the chopper he was barking orders and Piers found himself blissfully caught between numbness and the most horrible pain he'd ever experienced in his life. His mind went blank, could only focus on the searing, burning pain that dug deep within. Death would have been a much easier option, that was for sure. And the way pain coursed through to his very bones made him wonder if it had been the better option. 

Hands grasped at the sides of his face, shouted his name, pleaded with him. Piers hadn't known when he'd done it, but his eyes suddenly flew open. 

"I'm sorry, you've gotta stay with me, buddy. Stay awake, alright?" 

Piers finally responded to that one, let out an annoyed growl in response and for some reason Chris laughed at that. 

"F-fuck." 

"In general or is that directed towards me?" 

Piers stared at Chris for a moment and seemed as though he actually had the mental capacity to mull it over in his current state. 

"Both."

Again Chris laughed, and was glad he could keep his focus. 

"Well I'm sorry but there isn't much I can do. but you have to stay with me, Piers. Just a little longer." 

Piers couldn't discern the truth behind those words; for all he knew at the moment they could be hours away from their destination (he highly doubted it, even in his hazy state of mind). He wanted nothing more then to drift into unconsciousness; it meant the suffering would stop however temporary. It also meant he wouldn't have to continue with this horrifying reality of being infected, and it was just that.

His whole life he'd wanted to fight for something righteous; he'd climbed his way up the rungs of the ladder and ended up fighting the very thing he'd become. It made him physically ill. But his decision had saved lives--saved more people than he probably could realize. It had also saved the man currently focused on keeping him awake.   
Piers always did seem to throw his regard of life down the drain when it involves Chris. It had always infuriated the man who so desperately believed no life was more important than another. While Piers often spewed the same rhetoric, this alone showed he did not share the sentiment.   
He would've done anything to assure Chris's safety. He would've done this a thousand times over. Hell, the kid had spent six months of his life searching for him. Their lives were intertwined. 

"Hey, Piers, come on." 

Again he was being jarred, though this time it seemed to have less of an affect. Once more Chris could see that glazed over look, and instead of focusing on him, the lieutenant's eyes remained glued on the ceiling. 

"No--hey, Piers?" 

Chris could see the dangerous way his eyelids began to fall, the way his tightened muscles slowly relaxed. Although he was already tightly wound, he felt his heart leaping, pounding so hard he swore he'd suffocate. His grip on the younger tightened, thumbs pressing into his cheek, his face hovering above the other's.

"Piers, say something for me." 

Silence. Panic. Once more he was checking for a pulse which was still fluttering but present nonetheless. It should have given him some form of comfort, instead it mildly heightened the panic. Chris had been through hell and back; he had seen more horror than any common man ever would and continued to put himself in it's wake. The man had nerves of steel; a lifetime of hardship gave him that. And yet in this moment he swore he could finally find himself split. 

Hands moved to grab at a shoulder, jostling the man beneath his strong grip. He could feel his panic mounting, did his best to breath steadily and keep his head on right. The last thing he needed was to unravel; the last thing Piers needed was for him to come undone. He'd already done it once, he wouldn't do it again. Not now, anyway.

"Piers--you have to fucking say something, I need you to stay with me, do you understand? Can you hear me?" 

His eyes shut; Chris attempted to swallow the ball caught in his throat. Once more he moved, a hand tapping on this side of his face, then back to jarring, shaking, none of which worked. There was a general numbness surrounding the lieutenant; he swore he could hear, hell, swore he'd answer but the way in which he was being jolted he assumed this was not the case. He couldn't respond; couldn't keep his eyes open. Consciousness was fleeting but he swore somewhere in this hazy twilight he had heard his name being shouted. 

And then darkness seeped in entirely. 

"Piers?"

The lieutenant swore he'd slipped out of consciousness, and yet Chris's voice had suddenly become much clearer. As his senses returned and life flooded back into his being he slowly became aware of the fact he was no longer over the Western Pacific. The hard floor had been replaced with something much softer; nothing to rave about but it was definitely better then hard metal under his back. What was most noteworthy was the lack of searing pain that once enveloped him. His thoughts felt hazy, and when he attempted to shift he felt there was a lag in his body. No doubt pain killers, the good shit nonetheless. His hand clenched, wrapping in the sheets beneath him. 

And then fear suddenly gripped him; his eye shot open. 

Ah, there was the pain. Light suddenly flooding in was not pleasant, and it took a moment for his vision to focus. He was quick to notice he was half blind; whether he had lost the eye or not was unknown, but there was certainly a bandage wrapped around his head. Although slow, he attempted to lift his head, his neck craning to catch sight of the once grotesque appendage--

A hand was suddenly pressed against his chest, causing his gaze to turn to the source.

"Hey, slow down. You're alright." 

Chris. He was standing, his hand slowly retracting as Piers eased back down. Although standing, it was quite clear even to Pier's hazy mind that he'd been positioned in the seat near the bed not long ago. He looked exhausted, though he supposed that was no different from normal. The stubble on his face was more plentiful then he last remembered, and he swore the bags under his eyes were a permanent feature. But he didn't smell; there was no pungent odor, no alcohol clinging to him. That could at least somewhat put him at ease. 

Piers swallowed hard, noticed a particular stinging in his throat, most likely do to a tracheal tube. It only heightened his curiosity. Once more he attempted to move, this time carefully monitored by the man at his side, though he seemed more lenient. He lifted himself slightly upright, his arm shifting to throw the blanket from his body. 

Gone. His right side was empty; he didn't know whether this startled him more or elated him. While he may not have been entirely free of infection, at the very least he was free from the most egregious part. His head fell back and hit the pillow with an unceremonious thud, and Piers found the only word he could currently use to describe his feelings on the matter slip past his lips.

"Fuck." 

His focused turned to Chris who he was happy to see sitting once more, though he noted his eyes never wavered. It nearly made him shrink under his gaze; it had always been that way. He respected Chris, more so than anyone. Being in this position almost made him feel--dirty. Wrong. They had been through their fair share of head butting and, at times, slight defiance and Piers had always returned that hardened stare. Granted, this one seemed more so out of worry, but it didn't change the history they had together. 

"How long has it been?"

He nearly cringed at the sound of his voice; it was weak, coarse. That alone should have been enough to answer his question.

"Not long." Was Chris's response, but from the heated glare he received from Piers he knew that wasn't sufficient. He shifted in his seat after that, and a hand rubbed at the back of his neck. "A few weeks. As soon as they got their hands on Jake they started researching. We made sure you were a top priority." 

A few weeks--weeks? He kept rolling that thought around in his brain, attempted to get it to stick but to no avail. Weeks? God, he couldn't remember and quite frankly, he wasn't sure if we wanted to know what happened in that time. 

"I'm just--" He could tell Chris was uncomfortable--was he making him uncomfortable? No, by the way he shifted, the way his hands scratched at his leg, toyed with the loose fabric on his shirt, it was certainly something else. "I'm glad you're awake, Piers. I was worried. I mean, it's no surprise to say it was dicey for a while but--I'm just relieved." 

Piers couldn't help but find a smirk toying with his lips.

"Well, I wouldn't be if it wasn't for you." If it hadn't been for Chris, he would have been miles deep in the ocean, buried under rubble of a facility he so starkly opposed. Or worse, if he was less fortunate. 

"Yea, you're damn right." His tone was a bit more tilted with that comment, and once more Piers feels like shrinking. It was then he averted his gaze, eyes staring up at the white ceiling. 

"I'm sorry." It was a soft apology, and as he said so, he carefully tried to pull himself into a more upright position. Before he knew it there was a strong arm behind him, helping prop some pillows behind his back to keep him comfortable. "I wasn't in my right mind."

"No," Chris quickly interjected and his chair was pulled closer before he was reseated. "I would argue to say you were thinking straight, Piers. Only you would pull such a dumbass stunt. Do you think this is funny?" 

Piers was smirking uncharacteristically, though Chris had to admit, he was also somewhat intrigued by it. 

"Yea, that's real hypocritical coming from someone who would probably have done the same thing." 

Chris's mouth opened and promptly shut. He honestly had no rebuttal because, as per usual, Piers was entirely correct. That was the same dumb shit Chris would have pulled if the situation had been flipped. 

"Either, way, I wouldn't have shoved you into an escape pod alone. Jesus, Piers, you scared me half to death." 

"I know--"

"No, you don't know." Chris quickly interjected. There was a heat behind his tone, and while he did feel somewhat guilty accosting the man who had just woken up from what was basically a living nightmare, old emotions began to burn once more. "I don't know what I would have done if I left there alone, Piers. How the hell could I possibly have lived with myself? Just these past few weeks I've been a fucking wreck wondering if--you know what."

"You seem to forget I went six months thinking about that same thing."

"No, it wasn't the same, Piers! I was missing, you didn't have to watch me dig my own grave. Fine, alright, close enough but you didn't have to WATCH. I would have--" Chris paused, released the breath he'd been holding. Yelling wasn't going to get them anywhere; although it was something he'd tended to fall back on lately, it quite clearly hadn't done much good for him. Instead, he took a few stabilizing breaths, and started fresh. 

"I get it." He admitted, and there surprise apparent on Piers's face. "I get what you were thinking. I'm just glad I was also able to see that." 

"I couldn't fathom hurting anyone--God, Chris. I know I was there mentally, for the most part anyway, but the idea of turning into a J'avo--" 

"Yea, well, you didn't." That was a grounding statement, and Piers finally redirected his gaze onto Chris. 

The gaze was held for a while, the two men caught in silence. It was a peaceful one; a look of understanding. Chris was the one that broke it by allowing another sigh to escape him, meanwhile his fingers rubbed hard into his tired eyes.

"Anyway, point is, if you try and pull some bullshit like that again, I swear you'll be answering to my hands. And they don't accept apologies like me." 

Piers found a breathy laugh escaping him with that comment, and a thoughtful hum followed soon after. 

"So, about the whole repaying me thing? I think my fees may have just gone up." 

Chris snorted, and his attention was quickly brought back to the man in the bed. 

"Oh, how convenient you remember that bit, huh?"

That caused for a round of laughter between the two, no matter how weak and tired. The two of them had been to hell and back, but God, at the very least they had hope. That's the least they could ask for. Things were going to be okay, and that's all that truly mattered.


End file.
